The Wand
by Dearlady2002
Summary: "The Wand Chooses the Wizard." The story of a young Severus Snape, choosing his rather unique wand, and and the repercussions of that choice later on in his life.   A stand-alone, short canon story set over a span of years. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

The Wand chooses the Wizard…

The story of a young Severus Snape chosing his wand as a boy, and the repercussions of that choice later on in his life. Stand-alone, short canon story set over a span of years.

Written by Andrea "TheCopperDragon2004"  
>Oct 6, 2011- Jan 4, 2012<p>

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><p>Part 1<p>

In the dimly lit study of a small, shabby house in Spinner's End, Severus Snape sat in his favorite chair, long legs stretched out before him, and contemplated the wand he held in his large, pale hands..

"Come along, Severus," Eileen told her son in a sharp voice.

The skinny, oddly-dressed boy cringed at her tone, but obediently followed his mother to the dimly lit Diagon Alley shop. He knew she would want to fetch the rest of his new school supplies and be home before his father returned from his job at the mill and found them both gone. His father, a Muggle, was not happy that his son, so like him in appearances, had turned out to be one of "her ilk."

_A_ _wizard_.

His parents had always fought, but lately their arguments had become both louder, and more frequent. Severus knew he was the reason why; he knew that his father was disappointed in him. He was just all too glad to soon be leaving Spinner's End, forsaking his father and mother and their neglected little home, for the safety and prestige of Hogwarts…

The soft tinkling of a bell brought Severus's thoughts back to the present as his mother held the door open and motioned for him to proceed her in. His heart hitched in his chest with excitement as he stepped over the stone threshold and into the ancient shop. The very air smelled of wood, and dust, and age, and magic.

_Ollivander's_.

His eyes quickly grew accustomed to the dark, oil-lamp lit shop and he took a deep breath to calm himself. He wanted to do his mother's side of the family proud, and therefore would not act like a gawking, bumbling Muggle in the shop, touching everything and making a pest of himself. However, he could not help but quickly and discreetly scan the entire room, taking in the thousands of deep red, green, and blue boxes lined on the shelves, drinking in the sights to mull over later with Lily. He wondered what type of wand she'd gotten..

He heard the soft footsteps of the shop owner coming forward from the back rooms, and Severus snapped his attention to the elderly man as he greeted his mother.

"Miss Prince- now Missus Snape, of course," the white-haired man bowed respectfully. "I wondered when I would be seeing you in here again. It seems only yesterday, that you were here, buying _your_ first wand."

If the shop owner ever wondered why the dark-haired woman standing before him had never come back to his shop to buy a newer wand, as many witches and wizards did once they graduated from Hogwarts, he did not voice his thoughts. Perhaps it was because her family was too poor to afford a replacement. Perhaps she was one of those rare students who had taken excellent care of their wand and never needed to replace one that had been snapped or misplaced or merely outgrown. Or perhaps it was because she'd lost most of her magic, if the rumors he had heard over the years were true..

He was never one to place much stock in rumors though.

"So, our young Mister Snape needs a wand," Ollivander stated, eyeing the boy as he considered the vast number of wands available in his shop to which the boy might be suited. Olivander thought the poor boy looked like a half-starved, dirty scarecrow, dressed in clothes that were clearly not intended for him. Hogwarts would be good for him; clean uniforms, regular meals, and socialization with other children. His heart went out to the boy, who, clearly, did not have a good home life.

And yet, beneath his grubby, ill-cared-for exterior, Ollivander could sense immense power within one so young. He was certainly learned; the knowledge from the books this boy had spent years reading was nearly visible, it was as if the black ink from the pages had settled into the depths of his dark eyes.

Severus unconsciously straightened under the man's gaze, and his heart pounded in his ears as he patiently awaited receiving a wand. _His_ wand. Without a word, the old man turned and disappeared down one of the aisles of his shop. Severus could hear him mumbling under his breath as he returned, carrying a dark red box.

"Ziricote and dragon heartstring," Ollivander told the Severus as he held a marbled, dark-on-light patterned wand out to him. "Nine inches, unyielding." Ollivander thought privately that this would be a superb wand for the boy, as the exotic hardwood was protective in nature, and excellent for casting wards and defensive spells. Though the boy showed no visible bruises, Ollivander was sure that he had likely been beaten in the past. You could see it in the way the lad's eyes followed you, his wary expression.

Severus waved the wand, but nothing whatsoever happened. Disappointed, he handed it back to Mr. Ollivander, who lay it on the counter and quickly disappeared among the aisles again.

"Kingwood and unicorn hair, springy, seven and a half inches," he recited, returning with a emerald green box, and held out another wand to the boy. The dark purple and white grained wood was associated with leadership, Ollivander knew, and he could see the boy go far in his career at Hogwarts, should he so choose..

But again, the wand remained impassive in Severus's hands. With a slight frown, the boy sadly returned the wand. Ollivander noticed the boy's mother shift her weight to her other foot, impatient.

"Ah!" the old man said, and returned with a third wand in a dark blue box. "Lignum Vitae and Veela hair, ten and a quarter inches, supple," he told the boy as he handed him the chocolate and butterscotch hued wand. Ollivander deeply hoped that this wand would choose the boy- Lignum Vitae was a positive wood; it represented new beginnings and was known for its healing powers and assistance in making wise decisions. Clearly this boy, with such unkindly beginnings in life, could benefit from these advantages.

But alas, it was not the wand for him.

Severus placed the wand back onto the counter and struggled to suppress the apprehensive thoughts running through his mind. Clearly none of these wands wanted to choose him- what if his mother was wrong? What if he _wasn't_ a wizard? He would never be allowed in to Hogwarts! He would be stuck with his parents, as a Muggle!

"One more to try, lad," Ollivander said as he returned with a dark green box. "Here you are. Redheart and thestral hair. Twelve inches, swishy." Ollivander handed the boy the rose-toned wand, and though he knew the boost in confidence and self-esteem it could give him would be useful, Ollivander knew this wand would not be his either.

Severus gave the wand a wave, but again, to no avail. As he set the useless wand on the counter next to the others he'd tried, he tried not to let panic overwhelm him. _Fine_, he thought. If he was really a Muggle, or even a Squib, that didn't mean he had to stay at his parent's house forever! He would run away, if he had to. Surely Lily's parents would take him in?

"Mister Ollivander," Eileen spoke up suddenly, "I'm afraid to admit that we really must be going. Simply choose a wand for the boy and he'll have to make do with what he's given. We really must be on our way."

Severus flushed with shame, and quickly dropped his gaze to the floor. _His mother knew_. She was going to purchase any old wand for him, simply to keep up appearances, then whisk him away, back to Spinner's End. His father, at least, would be pleased to learn his son wouldn't be caught up in all that "Hogwarts nonsense."

"Madam," Ollivander spoke slowly, as if trying to ascertain whether this woman knew what she was suggesting. "I simply cannot choose a wand for the boy, surely you must know this?"

Eileen glanced outside at the sun, setting low in the sky, and repeated herself. "He'll make do. We must be leaving. Come, Severus, choose a wand," she pointed to the stacked boxes on the counter before him.

Severus had barely taken a grudging step forward when Ollivander's fist came crashing down onto the countertop. The wands in their boxes all jumped under the impact, and Severus flinched as he jumped back. The shop had gone completely silent, and the sudden clatter of a wand rolling off the counter to the floor seemed deafening.

Ollivander saw the boy jump when he slammed his hand on the countertop, confirming at least privately, that the boy was abused, but his eyes never left the woman standing before him.

"Madam! I simply _will not _allow you to do this injustice to your son! To select a wand _for_ him, and send him out into the world with it.. You may as well command him to stop breathing! You'll be neutering him magically! _None of these wands _will perform magic for him. He would be defenseless, and unable to learn even the most basic charms!"

Eyebrows pulled together in a grimace, Severus hunched down to pick up the wand that had fallen to the floor. He held it in his hand and felt depressed at how it just lay there, like a dead piece of wood. He looked up from his position on the floor and saw Mister Ollivander continuing to lecture his mother on _why_ they couldn't just buy him a wand and leave. Why did everyone around him yell? Settling down on his knees, Severus decided to stay low until the adults finished their discussion. He'd learned, long ago, to make himself scarce whenever his parents got into a row.

The adult's voices melted into background noise as Severus took this time to explore his surroundings. The counter he was hunched behind was actually made as a half-height bookshelf of sorts, and dozens upon dozens of wands in their boxes were haphazardly stuffed into it's shelves. Fingerprints left in the dust showed how regularly they were taken out and tried for new customers. He sat down on the floor and read the labels across them, touching a fingertip to each box with a kind of sad reverence. He would never know what it was like, to have a wand _choose_ to be with you, to do your bidding, to learn along with you as you grew into your own.

Another _bang_ of a fist on the counter made Severus jump, and a second wand rolled off the countertop and fell to the floor next to where he sat. As he watched, it rolled away, under the bottommost shelf of wands. He quickly leaned over and searched the shadows- there! There wasn't much clearance under the counter, but he managed to get his hand beneath it and grabbed the wand that had fallen. As he removed his hand, he saw something else, hidden in the shadows further back.

With a careful glance at the adults, he surreptitiously placed both wands back up on the counter, then kneeled again to peer beneath it, his black hair swinging, leaving trails in the dust on the floor. The mysterious shape was covered in a layer of gray dust so thick he could not be certain, but it appeared to be a box, neglected and hiding in the dark.

_Kind of like me_, he thought.

He reached under the counter, once again, and had to strain to reach it; it had been pushed back far further under the counter than the wands had rolled. Finally, as his shoulder hit the wood of the counter and he knew he could not reach any further, he felt his fingers touch the item through the spongy layer of dust.

It was definitely a box of some sort.

Severus slowly wiggled it forward with his fingertips until he could pick it up and remove it. Sitting up, he brushed the thick sheets of gray dust from his sleeve and hand, and examined the box.

It was a wand box, and it was white. Or, it once would have been; it was now so badly stained and faded that the box appeared to be made of old parchment. There were no labels or handwriting on it, which he found unusual, as every box he had seen in the store displayed Ollivander's loopy, cursive handwriting. Curious as to what was inside, Severus carefully prized it open, and folded back the brittle brown paper within.

It was beautiful.

He knew at once that it was an ebony wand; the color was so dark, so black, that it seemed to soak up any light that touched it in the dim room. It was so dark that no wood grain showed; it could have been carved from onyx, or from the very night itself. His hand moved forward, seemingly on it's own accord, eager to touch the wand-

"Severus!" His mother's sharp tone of voice made him jump, and he snatched his hand back guiltily as he looked up at her. He saw Ollivander's head lean over the counter and look down at him.

"What do you have there, my boy?" he asked kindly, motioning him to stand. Severus did, and, with an ache, reluctantly surrendered the wand box to the shop keeper.

"My my my, wherever did you find this?" Ollivander asked as he took the box and inspected it. A white box? How curious. He'd never used white boxes, nor had his father, nor had his grandfather before him…

"The wands rolled under the counter, sir, and I found this under there when I picked them up."  
>"And you rescued it from the darkness, boy?" It was more of a statement than a question, but Severus nodded.<p>

"Mister Ollivander," his mother started up again, "we will come back on another day, we really must-"

The old man held up one hand, silencing any further words from her. He would not let her continue to make her boy's life a nightmare out of her indifference towards the child, or fear of her husband. Ollivander knew, more than anyone, that the wand that chose this boy would either help set him on a path to greatness, or damn him to walk the long and painful road to hell.

Taking a steadying breath, the wandmaker gently reached into the box and picked up the wand, turning it in his fingers as he inspected it.

"Ebony, eleven and three quarters inches, unyielding.." he hefted it lightly in his hand, "with a core of.." He paused, and looked down at the wand in his hand, as if it had just bitten him.

"This wand has a double core," Ollivander announced. He could feel the dual energies residing within the ebony, fighting for dominance, yet acting, cooperating, as one core. He could tell from the impassive and confused stares that the woman and her boy gave him that they failed to see the significance of the fact.

"My own wandmaking records stretch back nearly a hundred years. My father and grandfather's go back an additional three hundred and sixty seven years before they were lost to a fire. This, Mister Snape," he met the boy's eyes, "is no wand that I, my father, nor my grandfather ever made."

Severus stared at the white-haired man and gulped. _What did that mean? _He felt his gaze pulled back to the wand in the man's hands. For what felt like an eternity to Severus, the man evaluated it, clearly weighing his options and considering, though _what_ he was weighing and considering, the boy did not know.

Ollivander sighed. _This could be a very dangerous wand, bonded to the wrong person_, he thought. Would this untried, seedling of a boy have the strength to carry it, straight and true, or would the wand bend the little sapling over with its weight?

He was terribly unsure of giving a wand of this power to such a young, beleaguered lad, but it wasn't up to him. This was to be young Mister Snape's wand, he knew. The boy had been destined to find it, after it had lain hidden under the counter, dormant, possibly for several hundreds of years. Ollivander knew the wand would choose him, already _had_ chosen him. No one else had heard the call of this black siren in her dark lair..

Ollivander turned his attention back to the boy, who still waited patiently.

"I think, Mister Snape," he said slowly, "that you ought to evaluate this wand.." He held out the wand, handle first, to the boy.

Severus's heart leapt with joy. Ollivander was going to let him try the ebony wand! Tailed closely behind this was the unhappy thought that this beautiful, mysterious wand would reject him, just as the others all had. High spirits quickly falling, he held out his hand to Mister Ollivander and felt the smooth, polished handle of the wood hit his palm.

A sudden rush of heat flowed through the wand to his fingers, up his arm, then dispersed through his whole body in radiating, tingling waves. He felt his hair blow in an unseen wind. Eyes wide, Severus looked first at his mother, who seemed as dispassionate as always, then to Mister Ollivander, who simultaneously looked triumphant and very haggard.

"Well done, my boy, well done," Ollivander told Severus. "It appears that you have your wand."  
>Ollivander watched the genuine smile spread across the boy's features, and felt the knot of worry deep in his stomach lessen somewhat. The boy was just given an incredibly powerful wand, and would soon be able to escape his miserable home life, for the safety of Hogwarts.<p>

Still, as the woman and her son left his shop a short while later, Ollivander could not fully shake that sense of foreboding, the one he had only had once before in his career as a wandmaker. It had been the day he'd sold a wand made of yew with a phoenix feather core to a young, orphaned boy…

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<br>**  
>Fanart! Here is Snape's wand in it's box at Ollivander's (there are also links in my profile page): www dot thecopperdragon2004 dot deviantart dot com gallery/#/d4ih9hx


	2. Chapter 2

The Wand Chooses the Wizard…

By Andrea "TheCopperDragon2004"

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><p>Part 2:<p>

Snape had constantly wondered, over the years, why this particular wand had chosen him; a shabby, poor, half-blood boy from Cokeworth. After all, it had undoubtedly been passed by thousands of witches and wizards over the years; certainly any number of them would have been more worthy of such a powerful wand?

Yet the wand had chosen _him_. It had always been a mystery why.

He had to admit, for the first several years of his education at Hogwarts, he had not even known the true identity of his wand. It was his sixth year of school before, on a weekend trip to Hogsmeade, he was able to discreetly slip away and Apparate to Diagon Alley to speak with Ollivander about the wand he did not make…

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><p>It was a fall day, that Severus found himself outside Ollivander's wand shop again. The soft <em>tinkle<em> of the overhead bell announced his presence as he stepped inside the seemingly empty shop, black school robes swirling about his feet. He breathed deeply; the scent of ancient lumber and magic instantly transported him back to the day six years prior that he purchased his wand.

A mote of dust stuck in his throat and he coughed, cursing under his breath.

Lumber, and magic, and _dust_, he thought. Merlin, he'd forgotten how much bloody dust there was in this shop..

"Mister Snape," Ollivander greeted him as he suddenly appeared from the back recesses of the aisles. "A pleasant surprise to see you again, young man. Not in need of a new wand, I trust?" Severus could not miss the slight accusatory tone the older man laced with his question.

"No, no, of course not.."

Ollivander nodded. "Excellent, what may I help you with, then?" The wandmaker was mildly surprised to see that the boy was now as tall as he was himself. He'd still not filled out much, but at least he no longer looked like a starved scarecrow. Severus did not, however, look any happier than the last time they had met; Hogwarts, apparently, wasn't doing him as much good as the Wandmaker had originally hoped it might.

"Actually, sir, I came to ask you about my wand." Severus held it out for the older man to take. "I was interested in learning about it. You never told me of its cores. You had said there are two?"

Ollivander carefully took the ebony wand from the young man, and nodded.

"I know that you were too young to fully understand, to truly appreciate, the unique qualities of your wand at the time," the old man said as he slowly rotated the wand in his gnarled hands. "However, I trust now that you can appreciate the full telling."

Eyes sparkling in the dim light of the room, Severus nodded, eager to understand more about a tool that was now as much a part of himself as his arms or legs.

"You understand, I assume, the very delicate and closely-guarded nature of what I am about to tell you? Wandmakers have always jealously protected their pool of knowledge, and I must insist that for numerous reasons, you entrust no one else with this information. I am afraid that your very safety could depend on your discretion, young man."

Was the old codger threatening him? Wandless, Severus eyed him, and after a moment, decided that he was not. There was something else this man feared, and it was not simply protecting trade secrets…

Severus nodded.

"Well, to begin at the very beginning, I suppose.." Ollivander conjured a pair of comfortable chairs out of thin air and they both sat, the older man's joints creaking as he did.

"The Ebony wands are historically noted for not only being very powerful," Ollivander began, "but for also being very indiscriminate when it comes to the types of energies and magic that they will channel; they will work with all types, freely, for any purposes. That is to say, the most noble, most moral of wizards could have used this wand with pure intent for good magic, and the darkest, most tainted wizard to ever walk the earth could have used this wand with malicious intent as well. An ebony wand would bond with one as readily as the other, and therein lies their danger. Ebony wands are not merely light _or_ dark; they _are_light, dark, and all shades in between. They are all-encompassing."

Severus nodded, wondering where he himself fell within that range. He was sure other people would disagree, but he tended to think of himself on the lighter side of the spectrum, though he was not unintelligent enough to think that there was absolutely no dark in him, either. He, at least, only tapped into the dark to protect himself from those in the world who wished him harm.

"Contradictorily, ebony is also an excellent wood for potent protection spells," the Wandmaker continued, "as is one of the cores in your wand. For this reason, I had hoped that this wand would serve you well, during those times when you are no longer at Hogwarts.." Ollivander gave the young man a knowing look. Snape flushed slightly, alarmed and embarrassed that the man had known or at least suspected of the miseries of his home life, but he remained silent.

"I remember the day you found your wand," Ollivander reminisced. "I was absolutely astounded to discover it had two cores."

Severus nodded, remembering the shocked expression on the older man's face. Now, as before, Ollivander turned the wand away from him and gazed down it's length.

"One of your cores, Chechen, or Poisonwood- which is quite unusual, by the way- is a wood that parallels and reinforces the magic of the ebony when casting protective spells, as I mentioned. It is also known for its use with hexes and curses; surely by now you have noticed that you can cast them easily?"

Severus nodded. "Yes, sir."

"You will, I think, also notice that you can remove them as easily as you cast them; another advantage of your Chechen core."

Severus didn't know why he would _want_ to remove a hex he had cast, but he let it go for now.

"But I don't understand, sir. What is so unusual about Poisonwood?"

"Throughout history, it has almost never been used for wandmaking, as the sap is highly poisonous, and causes blisters and rashes to appear anywhere that it is touched. If left untreated, it could be devastating."  
>Severus nodded, he knew this from his Herbology classes.<p>

"For Wandmakers, however," continued Mr. Ollivander, "it was a danger that could potentially cost them their career, and the wood was to be avoided at all possibility. Few wandmakers would take the risk that this wand would be the last they ever made."

Severus nodded to himself, bitter memories flooding his thoughts. He could understand how it felt to have the one thing you thought you could always count on in life, suddenly taken away from you. No wonder wandmakers avoided poisonwood. Suddenly, curiosity overtook his bitterness.

"And what of the other core, sir?" he asked as he shifted in his chair, excited.

"Mister Snape- Severus," Ollivander sighed, "again, I must stress to you the importance of telling no one what I've spoken to you of today." He watched the younger man nod, but Ollivander knew he still did not understand the absolute need for his silence. "Severus, have you ever heard of another wand with a dual core?"

"No, sir, but that's hardly my area of expertise-"

"Exactly," Ollivander interrupted him. "It _is_ my area of expertise, and I can assure you, _no one _has ever made a twin-core wand before. I do not believe that most wandmakers have ever even considered the possibility." He sighed, and Severus thought that the man suddenly looked every bit as old as his hundred and eleven years.

"Think of the most powerful wizard you know," Ollivander instructed him.

The young man nodded.

"Now, think of that wizard owning a wand that would double his power, possibly increase it exponentially. He would be nearly unstoppable. The implications of a wand such as this, a wand with the successful joining of cores, is staggering." He met the younger man's eyes for a moment as Severus realized that he, obviously, owned such a wand.

Ollivander could tell from the boy's silence, from his slightly paled color, that he was beginning to understand the danger.

"Knowledge that such a wand exists," Ollivander continued, "that others like it could be made, would upset the status-quo the wizarding world has been in for a millennia. Your life would be considered forfeit by those who deem themselves more powerful, more worthy of such a wand. You would be in danger, Severus."

Silent, they both stared at the black wood, lying harmlessly in the older man's hands. Ollivander was suddenly overwhelmed by a desire to snap the wand in half, to throw it into the fire before anything untoward happened to this young man because of it.

"I.. I see." Severus said, very quietly. The older man had known the danger he would be placing in that young boy's hands all those years ago, yet he had still entrusted Snape with what was likely the most dangerous wand in all of Britain, possibly in the world. He met Ollivander's eyes with determination. "No one will ever know about this. I promise you."

Ollivander nodded, his expression grim, as he placed a hand on the young man's shoulder in both apology for burdening him with this responsibility, and thanks for keeping his silence.

Both men jumped as the front door to the shop slammed open with a bang, the cold autumn air swirled in through the shop, making the oil lamps gutter.

"_Mister Snape_!"

The green-clad, tartan-wearing form of Minerva McGonagall stepped through the door, and with just one look at the anger radiating off her, Severus visibly wilted in his chair a little.

"_What on earth _do you think gives you the right to disappear from a _school sanctioned trip _to Hogsmeade?" Her lips pressed so tightly together they all but disappeared. "You flit off to _London_? What if something had _happened_ to you? We would have no idea where to begin even _looking_for you!"

Ollivander stood, Severus's wand still in his hand.

"Now, my dear Minerva, I must intervene on behalf of young Severus." Her green eyes snapped to him with lightning-quick speed. "I had owled Mr. Snape and requested that he come to pick up some wand polish that several younger students had ordered at the start of the year. We'd run out, you see. He was merely acting on my request. As I did not want to distract from his studies in any way, I had requested he come on a weekend when he had a free moment; Hogsmeade must have just seemed like the first opportunity the poor lad has had this year."

"Yes, and he's made himself quite comfortable while here," Minerva replied, eyes taking in the plush chairs they had sat in, as well as the wand still in Ollivander's hand. The two were clearly up to something, and trying to hide it, but she had no idea what.

"Oh, this," Ollivander waved a hand dismissively. "Merely catching up for a moment." He handed the young man back his wand. "Come, Severus, we do not want to keep Professor McGonagall waiting any longer, since she is so determined to see you back safely."

He gathered up a few tins of wax, placed them into a cloth carrying bag and handed them to the young man, then sent him on his way with a wave and a bid to come see him again, though to perhaps wait until over the winter holidays to do so.

"Go wait in the Headmaster's office for me, please, Mister Snape," McGonagall ordered.

Minerva watched Severus duck between her and the doorway, then Disapparate in the alleyway, headed back to Hogwarts. Now she turned her attention back to Ollivander.

"You watch yourself, Ollivander," she said, her Irish brogue clear in her agitation. "He may not be in my House, but I'll not have you turn this boy into an owl for your deliveries, or worse, into a lab rat for your magical experiments." The older man opened his mouth to defend himself but Minerva interrupted him. "This boy's had a hard life. I will not allow anyone to take advantage of him and compound those miseries."

"My dear woman, I am truly aware of what this boy has been through. I merely wished to check up on him, to ensure that he is doing well at Hogwarts. I meant him no harm, and certainly did not wish to inflict your wrath upon him. Do try to go easy on him."

And with a nod to the formidable woman standing in his doorway, he turned, and disappeared into the maze of aisles in his shop.

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><p>Later that evening, once safely ensconced in his curtained-off bed in the dungeons, Severus was shocked at how little he had been reprimanded. Yes, Professor McGonagall had been furious with him for sneaking off, and had verbally flayed him to bits for it, and both Professor Slughorn and Headmaster Dumbledore had been 'very disappointed' with him, but he had left the Headmaster's office with little more than their words ringing in his ears and a detention for the following evening with his Head of House.<p>

He wondered if perhaps, Mr. Ollivander had spoken to Professor McGonagall after he had left. He wouldn't have mentioned his wand, though, right? Severus had vowed to the older man that he would not speak of it to anyone, but if the wandmaker had found reason to tell one of his professors, so be it. Otherwise, Severus himself would not mention it to anyone.

He mulled over what Mr. Ollivander had told him. Parts of the information fit with what he already knew of his wand. Indeed, he could cast hexes and curses easily; he had even been inventing his own curses, such as his beloved _Sectumsempra, _which he was still perfecting. What was the old Irish saying? Something about recognizing your enemies by their limp? Well, one day the world would recognize the enemies of Severus Snape by the twisted, bloody scars 'Sempra left on them.. Why on earth would he ever _want _to remove a hex or a curse?

At this thought, the sneering face of Potter blossomed in Severus's mind. The bastard had humiliated him, had stolen Lily from him-

Severus firmly derailed this train of thought, shut these fresh, painful memories down in his mind before he gave in to the depression and self-loathing that usually accompanied them. It had been a good day today; he had learned a lot about his wand, and even about himself.

As he rolled over in bed to try to go to sleep, the thought suddenly occurred to him that Mr. Ollivander hadn't told him of his wand's _second _core..

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><p><strong>Authors's note<strong>: who do you think Severus pictured, when Ollivander instructed him to think of the most powerful wizard he knew? Dumbledore? Voldemort? Someone else?

Also, I wanted to write McGonagall as less of a discriminating hag towards the Slytherins, which is something I tend to see quite often. I *do* think that she dislikes them in later years because 'they' (Death Eaters= Slytherins, in her mind) killed several of her favorite students, as well as the Headmaster. Just my two cents. ;)

Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

The Wand Chooses the Wizard..

By Andrea "TheCopperDragon2004"

Oh, and just in case you live under a rock and are new to the whole concept of "Harry Potter," these characters are not mine, they belong to JK Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for a bit.

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><p>Part 3:<p>

Though it was many years after he visited Ollivander, Snape remembered well the day that he was truly thankful his wand would allow him to remove curses and hexes. It had allowed him to save not only one life, but two… 

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><p>Scarlet red blanketed the wet floor, spreading like an opening flower in the water. The pale blond boy lay on the stone flooring, growing even paler, shaking from shock and blood loss. Harry stood above him, too stunned to try to help or even react to the grisly sight that met his eyes.<p>

Severus strode into the bathroom, took in what had obviously happened within a second, and immediately kneeled by Draco. He had no idea if his healing spell would even work, since Potter had actually cast the harmful spell.

"_Vulnera Sanentur_," Snape murmured, as he slowly trailed the tip of his wand across the boy's stained white shirt. He held his breath for a moment before exhaling softly in relief; he could feel the continuing damage the spell was known for coming to a halt.

"_Vulnera Sanentur_," he murmured a second time, and could now feel the magic pulling away from Draco's body, undoing the damage and returning the blood to the body where it was so desperately needed. Severus wanted to jerk his hand away from the retreating magic; it felt wrong, tainted. Though _Sectumsempra_ was his spell, his creation, another wand had cast this particular round, and the ebony wand in his hand seemed to be able to tell that it was not Severus's magic it was currently manipulating.

"_Vulnera Sanentur_," he intoned a third time, and the remaining blood disappeared from the white fabric. Severus knew that beneath the cloth, the skin was healing properly, and if he could get the boy to Poppy quickly enough, Draco would likely avoid even minor scarring from the spell.

Snape looked back up at Potter with thinly-veiled loathing and contempt; he was still standing frozen as if under the Full Body Bind Curse. The stupid boy had nearly killed another student. Had he succeeded, he would have ended up locked up in Azkaban, "Chosen One" or not. To Snape's fellow Death Eaters, incarcerated for their past crimes, Christmas would have come early; they'd be clamoring over who had the right to actually kill him in the name of the Dark Lord. Severus would have put his money on Bella, if she hadn't already escaped.

Indeed, it was with a thankful heart, and a fiercely scowling expression, that Severus strode through the hallways of the school that afternoon, seeking out the one who deserved punishment of the likes that Hogwarts had not seen in many years..

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><p>It had been the winter holidays before the young Severus had dared to return to Ollivander's shop as instructed. After making an excuse to his mother that he was going to Lily's (for she did not know that his childhood friend had abandoned him, and he had absolutely no intention of telling her), he Apparated to Diagon Alley.<p>

The shop looked exactly as it had both previous times he had been here; it appeared that little changed in the shop, ever. The little bell above the door tinkled merrily as he walked inside.

"Hello, Mister Ollivander?" he called out in the silence.

From somewhere back in the bowels of the shop, the old man's voice replied. "Mr. Snape?" The Wandmaker appeared from the back of the shop and gave the younger wizard a smile. "It is good to see you again. I hope Minerva wasn't too harsh on you?"

"No, sir, considering," Severus answered with a slight grin. Ollivander _had_ to have spoken to her on his behalf. "I'm actually back to see about the last riddle in regards to my wand.."

"You want to know about the second core," Ollivander supplied. Severus nodded. "Well, I trust since you're on holiday I won't have Minerva barging into my shop again?"

"No, sir, I should think not."

"Very well. Let's at least be comfortable, shall we?" Ollivander again conjured a pair of comfortable chairs, then sat quietly for a moment, studying the young wizard before him. The boy still did not appear to be any happier than he had been in the autumn when he had stopped by. In fact, if anything, he now seemed unhappy _and_ incredibly introspective. This was not the bright-eyed, interested youth that had previously come looking for answers about his wand.

"Bee in your bonnet, Severus?"

Severus started, surprised that the old man seemed to know what he was thinking. Both Ollivander and Headmaster Dumbledore had that particular talent, which equally unnerved and annoyed Severus. Maybe it was a gift that came with age. Maybe they both simply knew him well enough to read him like a book. He met the older man's eyes and sighed.

"Yes, sir," he stared at the black wand in his hand for a moment then launched into what was clearly bothering him. "Over the years I've done really well at potions, and casting charms and hexes and things, as you said, and I was just wondering if I was only this good.." here he seemed to lose his nerve. The old man wouldn't understand, not really. He was a Wandmaker- and an incredibly gifted one- he'd probably never had to live a day in his life wondering if he truly had any talent or skill. Wondering if he was anything better than _ordinary_.

"You're wondering if you are only talented because of your wand," Ollivander supplied quietly.

Snape nodded, eyes on his wand in his lap. He felt like a fraud, a charlatan. "My boy, do you remember the day you found your wand in my shop?"

Severus nodded. "Of course. When none of the wands worked for me I was nearly frightened out of my wits because I thought, perhaps, I was a Squib. Then this little Ebony wand took pity on me." The corner of his mouth quirked up in what would later become his trademark self-deprecating sneer. Ollivander nodded to himself- he could see why this young man had been tormented by the thoughts running through his head. "Severus, I must clarify something for you, something I don't think you fully understand of yourself."

The dark eyes of the young man met his own.

"None of the other wands would perform for you because they would not be a match for you."

Severus blushed and looked at his hands in his lap, embarrassed.

"No, I do not mean that you were beneath them," Ollivander explained softly. "I mean that _they _were beneath _you_." Severus's forehead wrinkled as he pondered what the old man had just told him.

"The day you came into my shop with your mother, I could already tell that you were a bright and clearly powerful young boy. I believe that the wands I presented you with would not work because they would not be able to meet your demands. You would have, in essence, burned through them. You needed a wand worthy of the energy you would wield through it, capable of augmenting and channeling that power.

"You are only able to use this wand because you _are_ so powerful. Your wand would not work for a lesser witch or wizard, just as a lesser wand would not work for you," he stated. This boy might have doubts about many things in life, but the old wandmaker wanted it perfectly clear to the young man that he could do anything he chose to put his mind to.

Severus nodded to himself, digesting this information.

"Now," Ollivander said in a more brisk tone. "You wanted to find out about the second core."

The young man sat straighter in his chair and nodded, eyes shining once again as they got to the point of why he was here again.

"Well, I know _what_ your second core is, but I can only make an educated guess as to _how_ it came to be in your wand."

Severus nodded; he knew that Ollivander had no official records or information on his wand, and that anything the wandmaker could share with him about it was mostly speculation, at best.

"Years ago as a boy, I remember my grandfather telling me these outrageous stories of the adventures of a man named Geraint. The man in the stories had spent some time journeying across the world, taking in the sights and sounds and customs of people from all cultures. One area he had particularly cherished was Africa; the whole continent is ripe with magical energies, and as a wandmaker, he had devoted a great length of time to studying the region."

Severus listened intently, though he was unsure of what this story had to do with his wand.

"He spent a deal of time in east Africa," Ollivander continued, "possibly bartering his goods in exchange for food and quarters as he traveled. At any rate, one village he came across was having a terrible time dealing with an unknown creature that had taken up the area as it's territory. Besides the death and destruction the beast itself brought to the village, it was attacking the few livestock that the villagers had to sustain themselves."

Wide eyed, Severus nodded.

"When all of the grown witches and wizards from several surrounding villages joined to attempt to track down and deal with the beast, Geraint had offered to help with the task. While the other villagers were initially untrusting of the outsider, it was eventually decided that he could join, as they soon realized they would need every wand they could muster."

"What did they find?" Severus asked. Even dragons only took a few skilled wizards to take down.

"The party eventually traced the sightings and track marks to discover a nundu."

Severus's jaw dropped open slightly. He'd seen photographs of one of the giant, spotted cats in an ancient library book his first year at Hogwarts. They were huge; he had read that it took over a hundred wizards to subdue the cat photographed in the book. "Were they able to kill it?"

Ollivander nodded. "Several people from each village lost their lives battling the beast, and it took the entire party of over a hundred and thirteen wizards to subdue it, but they did claim victory over the creature in the end."

Ollivander studied the ebony wand he held in his hands.

"Now, as I said it is still entirely speculation, but-" Ollivander lifted the black wand- "the day you found this in my shop, I figured that at least one of my grandfather's old stories had to be true."

"What does my wand have to do with the stories, sir?"

"Severus, the man my grandfather told me of, Geraint, is actually one of my paternal ancestors, and he was also a Wandmaker."

The young man nodded, eyes wide, as the old man returned his wand to him. "The second core in your wand, I believe, is a whisker from the nundu that my distant grandfather helped to slay." 

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><p>"…Mister Snape, are you alright?"<p>

Severus shook his head to clear his thoughts and met the worried-looking gaze of Ollivander.

"Yes, sorry sir," he replied quietly. His mind had wandered away from him, reeling with what he feared would be _more_ implications of this newest facet of his wand's makeup.

"Sir," he continued slowly, "do you know of any other wands with a nundu core?" He was almost afraid to hear the answer the wandmaker would give him.

The old man shook his head. "Sadly, I have never heard of another. I do not know for certain how this affects your wand, one way or the other," he finished, hearing the unspoken question in the boy's query.

Severus nodded.

"However," Ollivander continued quietly, "knowing what I do about wand lore, I would say that a core from such a beast is likely not a good omen."

Severus's shoulders sagged a little as his worries were confirmed. "Can you explain why?"

"Throughout history, wandmakers have used cores from creatures that are our equals, theoretically. Dragons, phoenixes, unicorns, thestrels, even Veela- they are all beings of approximately equal magical power to a grown witch or wizard. In essence, wandmakers take the magic from these beasts, and by creating a wand, match a wizard's natural power, doubling his innate skill. The wand and the wizard are in perfect balance, neither is able to outperform the other."

Severus nodded to himself. This made sense- that's why it was always easier to perform magic with a wand, then without.

"..But to take the magic from a beast that so far outstrips even a hundred wizards, and create a wand using the core of such a beast.. could be highly dangerous."

Again, seemingly as one, they looked down at the black wand the young man held in his hands. Part of Severus's mind staggered with the thought that with any spell he cast, his wand could, what, overpower him? magically short him out? at any given moment, yet the rational side of him knew that this wand had faithfully served him for over five years, knew that _this wand had chosen him_. In some ways he felt like a snake charmer, safely handling the poisonous serpent which would kill anyone else in a second.

"Of course, as I said earlier, much of what I can tell you about your wand is purely speculation.." Ollivander offered by way of apology.

Severus nodded, still in somewhat of a daze as he struggled to process this newest information. "Of course, sir." He met the old man's gaze with hooded, dark eyes. "I had better be leaving, sir, or my mother will start to worry where I've gone," he lied. His mother would do no such thing, and he was relatively certain that Ollivander knew this, but he suddenly had to be free of this claustrophobic wand shop, free of the weight of responsibility this man was burdening him with..

The old wandmaker nodded, and they both got to their feet as he vanished the chairs he had conjured earlier.

"Just remember, Mister Snape," Ollivander told the young man as he paused, hand on the door handle, "the _wand_ chooses the _wizard_. It's not always clear why."

After a moment, Severus nodded, then left the shop. 

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Ever wonder what a Nundu is, or looks like? Click here to find out (warning; here there be fanart): http:/ thecopperdragon2004 dot deviantart dot com/ gallery/#/d4l93bn (take out the spaces- there is also a link in my profile)


	4. Chapter 4

The Wand Chooses the Wizard..

By Andrea "TheCopperDragon2004"

**Author's Note:**  
>A fair word of warning- this story was originally supposed to have a much darker ending to it, but I'm getting so tired of dark Severus stories, I didn't want to leave it at that, so I didn't. However, this means that I still may tweak the ending here a bit later on.<p>

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><p>Part 4:<p>

Severus escaped to the dark solitude of the Headmaster's office, and ignoring the portraits on the walls, sat down heavily at his desk, cradling his face in his hands as he fought not to lose control over his tightly-contained emotions. The year was not even over, and yet it had been the most trying of his decidedly miserable life. Normally he would never show any kind of weakness or emotion in front of another soul, but the portraits were Bound to him in his position as Headmaster, and could not reveal his private moments or conversations to anyone. Besides; they'd been present at his and Albus's meetings, and therefore knew the real reason he had killed the old man, knew the reasons Severus put himself through hell for years on end.

He listened to the snores of the various portraits in the office (some of the noises were clearly feigned- they did at least try to give him some semblance of privacy in his office when he needed to compose himself), and thought sourly that once this was all over, no matter which side won the war, he would not have a portrait made to join the others on the crowded wall. The wizarding world as a whole would likely burn it anyways, and besides, there would be no one left who would champion him once the Dark Lord considered his spy obsolete and likely killed him; Albus was dead, Minerva and the entire Order were convinced he was a traitor..

With a heavy sigh, he shifted uncomfortably in the old, beautifully carved chair in which he sat, and pulled his wand out from within his sleeve. As he stared at the length of ebony wood, he once again pondered the mystery that was his wand. Over the years he had to do many distasteful, even horrible things at the urging of his two masters, and had been required to be many different people in order to carry out his role as spy; Voldemort's Death Eater, Dumbledore's man, and quite rarely, could just be himself. He had often wondered how his life would have differed had _this_specific wand not chosen him. Would he even have had a wand, if one of Ollivander's long-dead relatives had not created this powerful tool?

With a snort, he realized that he probably would have had to live life as a Squib, or he would be dead already; none of the other wands at Ollivander's that day would work for him, and if he'd somehow been bonded to a different wand, he would have probably been killed years ago, once the wand had failed him in one way or another. He had needed a wand that he could protect himself with, whenever required, and yet could still injure or kill with, when necessary. He had needed a wand that could cast complex, delicate healing spells, as well as the darker, baser Unforgivables.

"_Ebony wands are not merely light __**or **__dark; they __**are**__ light, dark, and all shades in between. They are all-encompassing.._" he remembered Ollivander's voice telling him. Indeed.

No, there truly was only one wand that he ever could have been paired to; the way this wand had captured his attention from the moment he saw it, the way it had always bent to his will and performed the magics he had needed of it (even during the few times he had sincerely hoped that it would fail him), left no doubt of that in his mind. This wand had been made for _him_. Like him, it was especially dangerous in the wrong hands..

Severus glanced up at the portraits on the wall, and as he spoke, they instantly snapped to attention.

"Be it five months from now, or fifty years from now, if you all would be so kind as to see that my wand is destroyed after I am gone, I would appreciate it." He very much thought that whoever would eventually find him would likely snap it in half anyway- this was, after all, the very wand that had killed the great Albus Dumbledore, among countless others.

"Destroyed, Severus?" Asked Phineas, Hogwart's only Slytherin Headmaster prior to himself. "Would you leave nothing behind for posterity, as Hogwart's Headmaster?"

"_Posterity_?" Severus snorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "The wizarding world will be in such a headlong rush to forget my existence that it will be astonishing if they don't trip on their own robes."

He looked back up at the portraits lining the walls of the office, and caught and held the gaze of three in particular.

"Dilys, Phineas… Albus.." Snape stood and faced the trio, huddled together for the moment in Albus's picture frame. "You know I would not ask if it weren't important."

Dilys and Phineas both look resigned, but nodded in agreement to his request. Snape turned to focus his attention on Albus.

"Headmaster.. surely you owe me this much?" he said softly. After all of the ways Albus had failed Severus, from the time he was an eleven year old boy up to the present, surely he could ask for one favor as penance.

"Severus, I have not been Headmaster in nearly a year," Albus started up the old argument, trying to deflect the favor the man was asking of him. Snape merely met the old man's gaze with his own expressionless stare, and waited. Finally, the old man sighed.

"Alright, Severus.. We will try to ensure that it is destroyed upon your death." The old man actually looked disgruntled, as though a great secret were being kept from him. "Although I cannot fathom why it is so important to you."

Severus couldn't hold back the sneer that came to his lips. "Suffice it to say, Albus, that you _are_ _not_- and _need_not be- privy to every secret that has ever passed beneath this castle's roof."

Albus at least had the grace to blush slightly at the younger man's biting comment.

"I shall just say that I made an oath to someone, a long time ago, in regards to this wand."

With a nod to the trio of portraits, he turned and left the office, black cape billowing behind him. The three portraits turned to look at each other.

"What in the bloody hell do you think that was all about?" asked Dilys.

The other two portraits merely shook their heads.

"I think he's been taking a bit too much after you, Albus," Dily said with a smirk.

The End.

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><p><strong>Author's Note 2:<strong>  
>Thank you for sticking with my little story if you made it all the way to the end! Be sure to check out my other Snapely fic ("The Withheld Memory") if you enjoyed this one! I would love to hear what you thought of my writing!<p> 


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